


It's Not Over 'Till You're Underground

by slkdfowiejsdxk (BottomBitchBarnes)



Series: The Adventures of Barnes and Noble [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: ABANDONED. might add a new chapter but its unlikely, Alpha Steve, Dates, M/M, Memory Loss, Omega Bucky - Freeform, Scent Marking, Steve likes to take care of his sweet baby, Underage warning for their relationship before they were of age- May be explored through memories., Yeah okay I might've used Green Day lyrics for the title, a/b/o dynamics, no self harm though, self-deprecation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-12
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-12 22:39:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2127144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BottomBitchBarnes/pseuds/slkdfowiejsdxk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three weeks after the Winter Soldier surrenders, Bucky still isn't any better than he was the first day. </p><p>This is my first time writing anything this long- and the A/B/O is kind of an undertone- ish. It shouldn't be too overbearing.<br/>So, in this universe, there's no homophobia in the sense of male/male or female/female couples, but because Steve became an alpha after the serum, his and Bucky's early relationship would be considered lesbian. In the 40's. yikes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Every Time.

He blinked and looked around, trying to place himself. This was far from the first time he had woken up in a strange environment, but this was the first time that he had cared in a very long time. He sniffed the air. It smelled wrong- Different than the sterile labs that he was always kept in, with none of the cold, metallic sharpness of nitrogen in the air. This room smelled warm, and familiar- safe, even- but he couldn’t place the scent. The second thing that he noticed was that he wasn’t alone. He felt somebody’s gaze on the back of his neck and jerked his head around to see who was there.  
  
“Hey, Buck,” the blond sitting in the corner greeted, setting down a novel and removing a pair of reading glasses. Oh. The man from the bridge. No. Steven. Steve. He remembers from a video in the museum that he had called him Stevie once.   
“You okay, Bucky?” Steve asked. Right. Bucky. That was his name, or at least the name that this man used for him. As for the question…   
“Confused, that’s the name of the emotion, right?” Steve nodded but Bucky retained the look of frustrated perplexion on his face.   
“Confused. Smells good in here. Not used to it. Was I before?” he asked, making eye contact with Steve for the first time.  
  
“Not as much as you could have been. It’s me, by the way, that you’re smelling. But I smell different than I did before the serum. Do you recognise me?” Bucky nodded.   
“Steven Grant Rogers, designated omega at puberty, later designated alpha. Born July 4th, 1918 in Brooklyn, New York. You were my last assignment.” Steve tensed.   
“I’m not done,” Bucky continued.   
“You’re also the best friend of James Buchanan Barnes, designated omega. Born August 13th, 1917 in Shelbyville, Indiana, but raised in an orphanage in  Brooklyn, two doors down. Me. I know facts about our early lives from the museum. I don’t remember it.”  
  
Steve nodded, a sad smile on his lips, not touching his eyes.   
“That’s alright, Buck,” Steve told him,   
“If you want, we can try and get it back. You hurt? I can call Bruce in to give you something for it if you want,” he offered.   
“Is Bruce one of the doctors who freeze me?” Bucky asked, his eyes widening in fear.   
“No, Buck, I swear. Bruce is one of the good guys, he’s on our side. I’m not ever gonna let you get frozen again, promise.  Are you in any pain?” Bucky shook his head almost imperceptibly.   
“You sure? I can go get painkillers if you want. I’m pretty sure normal aspirin works on you, do you want some?” Bucky thought for a minute.   
“Yes, please. But- only if the bottle hasn’t been opened.”   
“Okay. You hungry?”   
“A little bit. But- but I could wait to eat,” he hastened to add, the danger of making requests still fresh in his mind. Steve nodded and ducked out of the door after looking at Bucky for a minute with that same sad smile again.

* * *

“We need to get him feeling safe as soon as possible,” Steve told Bruce, dropping the façade of being okay as soon as he was through the door.   
“I’ll be right back, please just make sure he doesn’t hurt himself.” Bruce nodded and went back to the paperwork he had been working on, absently looking up at the surveillance of the padded room every so often.

* * *

 _Steve._ The scent in the room was fading, but not as quickly as Bucky was used to the scent of other alphas fading.   
_Steve._ Bucky took another deep breath through his nose, feeling the calm flood through his chest with the scent.   
_Steve._ Punk of a kid, always getting into fights he couldn’t finish.   
_Steve._ Chaste and not so chaste kisses, hiding from the Sisters.   
_Steve._ Warmth. Safety. Home. _  
Steve._ Sick. Maybe dying. So often, but every time was like the first- terrifying. Why is it so scary?   
_Steve._ Being drafted. crying. Praying. Steve got denied enlistment. Thanking God every time. Cursing Him that he had to leave. Protecting Steve.    
 _Steve_. On the table, seeing little Steve so often, never smelling him. Needing to.   
 _Steve._ Carried out. What happened? Smells different. Alpha. Too big. Too tall. Stronger.   
 _Steve._ Crying. Wailing. Couldn’t protect him. Needed to protect Stevie. Couldn’t live without him.   
_Steve._ Didn’t have to.

Bucky was broken from his thoughts when the door opened. He didn’t have to look, trusted it to be Steve. He kept his gaze on the ceiling.   
“Brought pizza,” Steve called, taking a sip of coke.   
“Were we mates?” Bucky asked, still watching the ceiling fan and causing Steve to spit the coke out all over his own shirt.   
“Where'd that come from?” he asked, recovering and setting the pizza, two glass bottles of coke, and the aspirin down on the room's sole table.   
“Your scent. I think it’s helping me remember. Just bits and pieces. My accent was different then. I think yours was a bit too.” Steve nodded.   
“We weren’t officially bonded or married, there wasn’t any time after I got the Serum, and before then it would’ve been sin. According to the Sisters, anyway. Always felt just fine to me,” he told Bucky.   
“But we messed around and, okay, yeah, I was planning on proposing the second the war was over. You were really broken up about me getting bigger than you. I think you wanted me to stay home, thought I couldn’t take care of myself out there,” he continued.   
“Needed to protect you,” Bucky said. His throat felt wrong. Why did it feel like that? He couldn’t see right, either, too wet. Drowning. Dry. Warm. Safe. Steve. He moved closer as Steve’s arms wrapped tight around him, pulling him up to sit cradled in his arms. Why was he shaking?

“I don’t understand what’s happening,” he sobbed into Steve’s shoulder as Steve rubbed his back soothingly, cooing in his ear that it would be okay, he’s safe now, they’re gonna be fine.   
“We’ll be great, right, Buck? You an’ me, ‘till the end of the line, just like we said. Like you always promised me. Love you so much, baby, gotta keep you safe. I will, I promise. Nobody’s gonna get us. Nobody’s gonna take you away from me again. Not ever.” Then Steve kissed his forehead, and Bucky shattered. He pressed his face closer into Steve's chest, feeling his heartbeat against his cheek and breathing deeply, permanently burning the scent so deep in his memory that it could never be gone again. Steve held him as he shook, cooing to him and calling him sweetheart.   
"Steve, Steve," Bucky babbled, clutching at Steve's shirt and soaking it with tears.   
"Shhh, it's okay, sweetheart, I've gotcha. God, I love ya, Bucky. Love you so much. Feels like dying, seeing you like this. How can I help? 'S there anything you need? Anything you want, baby, it's yours. Within reason." Bucky just held him tighter, like he was trying to become part of him. Steve pressed another soft kiss to his temple and Bucky turned his head and kissed him on the mouth.   
"You." He said.   
"Just you." Steve smiled, letting it touch his eyes this time but causing tears to fall from them in the process. He kissed him again, before parting and whispering,   
"Always."

* * *

They sat like that for most of the day after Steve enforced food and painkillers. Bucky calmed down and remembered more the longer they held each other, and Steve got less tense, though in the back of his mind a tiny, nagging voice told him that it could just be the Winter Soldier trying to wear down his guard. He brushed it away every time, fuelled by the soft, shy kisses Bucky was placing at his scent glands and the way he was hiccoughing gently in an attempt to stop crying. Steve soothed him by whispering confessions of his love, promising that as soon as they had things figured out, they'd get married, proposing over and over again and crying each time the answer was yes. Promising to keep him safe and warm, away from anyone that could hurt them. Eventually, Bucky fell asleep, still clinging to Steve's shirt and scenting him as best as he could with only three semi-functioning scent glands. Steve laid him down on the bed, curling up next to him and holding him close.   
"Love ya, Buck," he murmured, pressing his lips to his forehead.   
"Mmm. Missed ya, Stevie," Bucky mumbled, half-asleep.

* * *

Steve didn't let himself fall asleep next to Bucky. Never did- Bucky would forget again by morning, like every morning for the past three and a half weeks, and the Winter Soldier was less than forgiving. As soon as he was sure Bucky was asleep, he gave him one last soft kiss, went for his evening run, showered, and moved back to the chair in the corner to doze.


	2. Whaddaya thinkin'?

"Whaddaya think you're doin' over there, ya punk? You think this is some kinda one-night stand?" Bucky asked in the morning. Steve looked up from his book. "What do you mean, Buck?" he asked, startled by the familiarity in Bucky’s voice this early in the day. “I mean if we're gonna get married, ya better get used to sharin' a bed," he replied. Steve went over and sat on the edge of the bed. "Do- Do you- Remember? Yesterday?" he asked, brushing the hair from Bucky's face with a shaking hand. Bucky's eyebrows knotted. "Yeah. Shouldn't I?" Steve grinned and wrapped his arms around him tight, pressing kisses to his neck. "Good morning, Buck. I love you," he whispered, "God, I love you so much, Bucky." Bucky tentatively wrapped his arms around Steve's waist, kissing his temple.   
"I love you too, Rogers. ‘S there somethin' you ain't tellin' me?" Steve stiffened a bit.   
“You’ve been… Forgetting. Every morning. You’re fine by about lunchtime, but every… every time. Always.”   
“For how long?” Bucky asked, brushing a stray hair from Steve’s eyes.   
“Almost a month. I thought it would get better once you were off of your suppressants, but- Nothing changed.”   
“Did you take the suppressants out of my arm?”   
“What?”   
“There’s a timed mechanism in my arm that releases a combined heat and memory suppressant into my bloodstream every 24 hours if I forget that day’s pill or if I lose it. There’s enough to hold me off for 28 days. That’s longer than any of my missions ever took, but HYDRA was cautious. I was their asset, they didn’t want me pregnant. I would’ve told you if you’d asked if I had an implant. Only thing I was supposed to remember while I was on it was my mission.” Steve blinked.   
“Seriously?”   
“Yeah.” Steve sighed and held him closer, but Bucky pushed him off.   
“You said I was off my suppressants,” he realised aloud, making panicked eye contact with Steve.   
“I haven’t had a heat in 70 years, Steve. This is going to be really intense.”   
“It’s okay, Buck, I’ll be here if you want me, and I’ll go if you tell me to. I’m still on my suppressants, so even if your heat triggers a rut, it won’t be intense enough to cloud my judgement. Promise.”

* * *

But Bucky’s heat doesn’t come. They anticipate it for the next month, but after that Bucky starts to curl in on himself more and more, trying to trigger the heat by rubbing at his scent glands. Steve can do nothing but watch, because every time he reaches out, Bucky pushes him two steps further back than he was before. What’s worse is that Bucky’s remembering more and more, Steve’s scent triggering memories triggering more memories, and he wouldn’t let Steve help. Steve cried every time he left the room, every time he didn’t have to be strong for his omega. Bruce just frowned sympathetically, Sam tried to tell him it was normal, and Tony clapped him on the back in an attempt to make him feel better, but it just made him worse. He couldn’t stand seeing Bucky like that, but he had to stand it, he had to make sure Bucky knew he wouldn’t leave, not ever.


	3. Don't Leave Me!

“Steve?” Bucky called one morning when he didn’t feel the familiar heat against his back.   
“Steve?” the panic in his voice rose. He curled in on himself, cramping his muscles in his body's attempt to trigger his heat. Steve came in the door with breakfast, fruit and pastries and fresh, hot coffee, and nearly dropped the tray in his haste to get to him.   
"Hey, hey, it's okay, Buck, I've got you, it's alright. I've gotcha. You hurtin'? I can go get some-"   
"No! No, please don't go, Steve. Don't leave me," Bucky cut him off.   
"Hey, it's alright, I'm right here. Why would I ever leave ya, Buck? I was just saying I could getcha some painkillers or something. If you wanted. I'd be right back, I promise. Why wouldn't I be?" Steve tried to soothe him.

"'Cause what if you run into some pretty omega or beta or, hell, even an alpha if they're pretty enough, and you decide I'm not worth your time? You're goddamn Captain America, you deserve better than some broken omega like me who can't even be bred! I'm worthless, Steve, you've gotta see that. What do you even see in me? I can't give you children, and you always said that's what you wanted and I should be dead, Steve, I’m worthless, you should just leave me to-" But he never finished that sentence because something in Steve's chest snapped and he growled possessively.   
"Is that really what you think?" Steve asked, eyes never leaving Bucky's. Bucky nodded and broke down again, sobbing into Steve's chest. Steve pushed him back again just far enough to look him in the eyes.   
"Hey, hey. Look at me, Bucky," he commanded.

"Remember when I was that little punk of an omega? Do you remember how many heats I had in the twelve years I should’ve been fertile? _Nine_. I missed _more than half_ of mine, baby, and you never left me or told me I was nothing, so why the _Hell_ would it be okay to say it to yourself or think, even for a _second_ _,_ that I would think that about you? You're my whole goddamn _world,_ Buck, and if you're broken, then I guess I'm breakin' with you. I ain't gonna leave you for some breeder just 'cause you miss _one heat._ Just one, Buck. That's _incredible._ You know what Bruce said, when those test results from last week came back? He said you were the strongest omega he’d ever seen, and one of the most fertile. You're not fucking broken, and I won't let you say that about yourself. Buck, even if you never have another heat in your life, I'm gonna be right there with you. If we can't have our own kids, we'll adopt. Who knows better’n us how many kids there are out there who don't have folks to love 'em, right?" he smiled tentatively, his eyes watering slightly. Bucky sniffled and took a deep breath before nodding.  
  
“I think we need to get ya outside, huh? Get some fresh air in your lungs. Even if it is Manhattan air. Lemme just talk to Tony, alright?” He kissed Bucky’s cheek and opened the door, standing in the doorframe so that Bucky didn’t panic again.   
“Tony?”   
“Yeah, yeah. You still have to take some security with you, though. I know that he’s not the Winter Soldier anymore, or he doesn’t seem like he his, but he’s still unstable and vulnerable. It’s really more for his safety than for yours.”   
“Thanks, Tony.”


	4. Noah

After Bucky had showered and changed, they stepped outside, tailed at a distance by some of Tony’s bodyguards.   
“Where do you wanna go, Buck? Breakfast?” Bucky thought for a minute.   
“There any good bakeries around?” Steve smiled and took Bucky’s right hand in his left.   
“Yeah, there’s a nice little one about four blocks from here. The bagels are almost as good as Mr. Schumacher’s, I think. You up for the walk?”

They smiled and held hands the whole day, Bucky momentarily forgetting his self-loathing as Steve kept him distracted by visiting the Empire State building (Which Bucky had helped build during the Depression- He pointed out his handiwork whenever they passed it) and touring Radio City Music Hall (Which Bucky had always wanted to visit- Steve took lots of pictures to sketch later). They went out to Staten Island for a little while, the ferry bringing out Bucky’s seasickness although it was one of the least boisterous boats either of them had ever been on (Amphibious missions during the war had been an absolute bitch for the Commandos because of it, one of the main reasons why they skipped Juno Beach), and got pretzels, which had become more of a thing than they really should’ve during their 70-and-72-year absences. They took the train back.

At the end of the day, Steve put his arm around Bucky’s shoulders and kissed his temple, earning himself a halfhearted punch in the arm.   
“So, you havin’ a good time, Buck?” Bucky grinned in spite of himself.   
“You sure know how to treat a fella, Rogers,” he replied, slinging his arm around Steve’s waist.   
“Well, there’s one more thing, if you’re up for it. I think you’ll like it,” Steve whispered the last part in his ear like a secret.   
“Just let me stop in here for a minute,” he said, stepping into a florists. Bucky leaned against the building, eyes closed and grinning like an idiot.

  
“Woah! Mister, is your hand made of metal?!?!” a kid about four years old asked about fifteen seconds later. Bucky smiled at him, looked to his mother (who reeked of pre-heat omega) for permission to speak to him, and squatted to eye level.   
“Yeah, you wanna see?” the kid’s eyes lit up like it was Christmas. Bucky took off the blazer he’d been wearing and rolled up his shirtsleeve so the kid could see the contours of his arm, leaving the star on his shoulder covered.   
“Woah! Does it come off?”   
“Yeah, but I like to keep it on ‘till bedtime. It’s nice to have two hands, y’know?”   
“Yeah. I’ve got a fake one, too, see?” and he held up his right hand, a plastic prosthetic. Bucky nodded, his expression serious.   
“I’m Bucky Barnes, what’s your name?”   
“Noah Schwartz.”   
“Well, Mr. Schwartz, my friend Tony’s studying my arm, so hopefully they can make you one just like it someday. I can feel stuff with it, too,” he added as an afterthought. He remembered before HYDRA had figured that out- it hadn't been pleasant.   
“You mean Tony _Stark?_ Wait. You said you were Bucky Barnes, right?” Noah asked, his eyes growing impossibly wider.   
“Yep. The very same.”   
“You hear that, mom? Ironman _and_ Sergeant Bucky!”

Bucky stood up to speak quietly to Noah’s mother.   
“Actually, ma’am, Tony’s got a prototype in the works. It’s too small for me to test, but it might fit him... I think it’s a right arm, in fact. If you wait a minute here, Steve will be out and I’m sure he could put in a good word if you want. No bother,” She smiled and looked at her son.   
“I’m sure we’d only be a nuisance- And we can’t afford anything near that expensive...” she said, just as Steve came out of the shop, causing Noah to squeal with the excitement of meeting Captain America and Bucky.

“Just checked in on the order, it should be ready in a few minutes… Everything okay here? Steve Rogers, ma’am,” he introduced himself, and shook her hand. Bucky tried not to let it bother him- She was mated, after all, he could see her bonding scar, and Steve had promised not to leave him. He cleared his throat.  
“Steve, do you think that arm Tony’s been working on would fit Noah here?” he asked after he was sure he wouldn’t growl. Steve squatted and sized him up, taking size comparisons between Noah and Bucky’s leg, and nodded after a minute.   
“No harm in trying it on- Ma’am, would you like to put your son’s name forward as a candidate for trials? I can give you Tony’s business number if you’d like.”

She relented, of course, to the (literally) trademarked Captain America Honesty and Charm. They sent them on their way after both Steve and Bucky shook Noah’s hand and gave him very careful high fives, and Noah’s mother (Jillian) thanked them profusely.

  
Steve ducked back into the florist’s and returned with a small bouquet of orange ranunculus with cornflowers interspersing them. He kissed Bucky’s cheek as he handed it to him, free hand cupping the back of his neck and his jaw.   
“I love you, Buck,” he whispered, just like back when it was a secret, like he wanted to do nothing but tell him for the rest of his life that he was loved. Bucky smiled and leaned in to the touch, pressing his lips to Steve’s jaw in response.   
“I love you too, Stevie,” he replied, smiling against his skin.

“So, I was wondering, if maybe, since, well, um… Since you’re such a good-lookin’ fella… I was wondering if you might want to go dancing with me?” Steve asked, voice all apple-pie and awe-shucks-ma’am, his skin flushing slightly. Bucky slipped his free hand into Steve’s and smiled at him.   
“Lead the way, handsome,” he replied, playing the part of the confident-but-still-shy, blushing-bride-type omega that he knew Steve found irresistible on occasion. Steve hailed a cab to Brooklyn (The cabbie refused pay once he realised who Steve was, and got his autograph instead- it was probably worth more on ebay anyway).

 

He led Bucky to an out-of-the-way kind of pub, vaguely familiar on the outside- but when they stepped inside, Bucky had to take a deep breath. This was the pub they had always gone to before the war, whenever they could afford a drink and they weren’t on their heats. This was where Steve had had his first bar fight- Over the song selection, of all things. It was practically unchanged, apart from a new(er) cash register, a poster that explained that the pub was a national landmark because of Steve, and the addition of an ATM in one corner- oak for every surface, brass taps on the bar- even the old jukebox and radio in the back corner (Though Bucky suspected that they had been refurbished at some point). It was all a bit cleaner than when they had gotten drunk there all those years ago, but it was definitely the same place.   
“Something had to stay the same, right? I figured--” But Steve was cut off mid-sentence by Bucky kissing him full on the mouth.   
“Thank you,” he breathed against Steve’s lips as he pulled away. Steve grinned so wide Bucky thought his face might split open and asked the bartender for a glass of tap water for the flowers before dragging Bucky over to the jukebox, nudging people aside with “Sorry”s and “Pardon us”s.   
“Now, they’ve been updating it now and again, but they’ve kept our old favorites, see? Even _Bie Mir Bist Du Schon._ I think the newer stuff is pretty old too, though- It’s mostly by the Beatles, so… Seventies?”   
“Sixties.” Bucky corrected.   
“Tony told me they broke up in 1970. Oh, how about this one?” he asks, pausing the selector on _All My Lovin’.  
_ “Sure thing, darlin’,” Steve replies, slipping a nickel into the slot and pressing ‘Select.’

As the song started, Steve pulled Bucky into his arms and started rocking back and forth in a way that completely went against the rhythm of the song. He murmured the lyrics in Bucky’s ear absently, almost like he had forgotten that he was singing aloud. Bucky smiled contentedly and laid his head on Steve’s shoulder, giving himself a break for once. The rest of the crowd gradually got quieter as more and more people realised who the tall, handsome alpha dancing in the corner was. A few whispered, but more took semi-discrete photos. Eventually, everyone’s curiosity faded, and they let the couple enjoy the evening in peace.


	5. Field Day

The next morning, however, the tabloids had a field day, wondering who the ‘scentless stranger’ accompanying Captain America might be; Some remarked that he looked like he could be an alpha- which was true, he did have the build for it- while others remarked at the similarity between this stranger and Sergeant Barnes, who everyone still believed dead. Bucky and Steve, of course, remained curled up in bed, oblivious to the attention they had drawn to themselves, until JARVIS called them up to Tony’s office.   
“So, you boys enjoying the limelight? I mean, dad always said Cap always had a flair for the dramatic, but I thought you preferred to stick to shadows, Barnes.” Tony admonished them by way of greeting.    
“What are you even talking about, Tony?” Bucky asked, still rubbing the sleep from his eye.   
“Plus, you’re one to talk, ‘dramatic flair,’ my ass,” Steve added.   
“Yeah, well, now you, Mr. and Mrs. Spangles, have to go and make a public appearance to re-introduce Bucky to the public eye before more of these rumors surrounding him spread. So go gussie yourselves up, or whatever it is you geezers do, you’re holding a press conference at 3:30. You know, when I said you could go out, I thought you were going to take him to Central Park or something. Not _every goddamn landmark New York has to offer.”_

* * *

The press conference goes well. Whenever Steve freezes up, Bucky’s there with a quip that usually has everyone in the room wondering whether it was meant to be insulting, but Steve always recovers in time to smooth things over. Pepper wrote the script, portraying Bucky as a hero and a victim of HYDRA for the past 70 years- No lies, just the version of the truth that best suited them. The press, of course, were shocked to find out that not only was Sergeant Bucky Barnes alive, but that he and Captain America were, in fact, a couple- Though they made it sound like they were bonded and that they hadn’t been a couple until _after_ the serum.

* * *

Afterward, back upstairs, Steve banged his forehead against the wall.   
“That was a fucking _nightmare,”_ he breathed.   
“You know, you’d think we could have some damn privacy or something, but no. Too fucking much to ask.”  
“Woah, ease up on the cursing, there, champ,” Bucky chuckled behind him.   
“It’s fine, I would’ve had to show up at some point anyway, right? The sooner the better. Plus it means I won’t have to worry as much about other omegas tryin’ to seduce you, people respect a bond. I just--” But before he could finish his sentence, there was an intense, shooting pain through his abdomen, and he cried out and collapsed.

Steve caught him just as he was about to hit the floor.   
“Bucky? You okay?” Bucky just shook his head and tensed his stomach as more cramps flooded his body.  
“C’mon, let’s get you into bed. Headache?”  
“Yeah, a bit. Cramps, mostly. I can walk, y’know. S’not as bad as _you_ were when you got your _first_ heat or nothin’,”  
“You think that’s what it is?”  
“Pretty sure, it’s focussed in that… general area.”  
“Alright, baby, here, you lie down, I’m gonna go get some ice and painkillers, okay? I’ll be right back, I just have to go before the smell of you makes it so I can’t. I love you, baby,” Steve whispered and kissed Bucky’s cheek before he left.

By the time Steve got back, Bucky was sweating, wearing significantly less clothing than he had been when he’d left. He was also starting the ritual of trying every single position he could think of to sit in- He was currently balancing on his head and shoulders on the bed as his back and legs made their way up the wall, his feet resting on the windowsill.   
“You comfy?” Steve smirked, bringing the supplies over to him and helping him sit like a normal human being so that he could take his painkillers. Bucky breathed deep, basically collapsing on Steve and wrapping his arms around his waist.  
“You smell good.”  
“That so?”  
“Mmhmm. Smell like cedar. And lemon pie. And that red carbolic soap we used to use.” Steve chuckled.   
  
“You smell pretty good too, Buck. Here, lie back down, I got you some ice. You alright, babe?” Bucky nodded and curled against Steve’s side. “Better when you’re here. Calms me down, I guess.”  
“Still pretty delirious, though, huh,” Steve acknowledged.   
“Yeah. But this part’s not the worst, you know that.” Steve nodded and held him closer.   
“I know, baby. I’ll be right here, though, right? And I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do, I promise. I couldn’t let myself hurt you,” he emphasized, moving the ice pack so it rested on Bucky’s forehead, trying to bring down his temperature.   
“Mmm. It’d be nice if you’d knot me… Just, if you want,” Bucky confessed.   
“I just wanted to let you know before the estrogen makes me go all ‘fuckmebreedmeclaimme’ on you so you didn’t think I’d regret it or something. I love you, Stevie,” he murmured.   
“I love you too, ya jerk, now get some sleep. God knows you’ll need it,”   
“Mmm. You too, punk,” Bucky yawned, and settled down with his waist in the crook of Steve’s arm. Steve smiled and shut his eyes. God, this was gonna be a long week. Not that Steve was gonna be complaining.


	6. First Heats

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY SO LISTEN UP! THIS CHAPTER HAS UNDERAGED (but consensual) SEX. YOU CAN SKIP IT IF IT'S GONNA TRIGGER YOU. IT'S NOT THAT IMPORTANT TO THE PLOT. Thank you. Read on, if you want. If not, no hard feelings. There will continue to be trigger warnings for serious triggers like underage sex, graphic violence, or self-harm (that last one is unlikely as I myself am triggered by it), but if you're triggered by, say, people drinking water or something, you need to go outside. There will not be /any/ non-con/rape themes explored in this fic- The way that I've set up the heat, there's a coherency at the beginning that allows Bucky (or pre-serum Steve) to give full, informed consent to what's going to happen. (On a side note, heats happen twice yearly in this fic, and as far as monks and nuns, alphas and betas become monks, and betas and omegas become nuns [betas take the role of alpha or omega, whichever suits them better]. just to clarify.) Please give constructive criticism/ask for clarification on whatever you need, but bear in mind that I probably won't take your advice- I'm pretty stubborn.

_'Am I dying?' Bucky wondered, sprawled across his cot. He was burning up, and his body felt like it had been liquified from the inside out. He thought maybe it wasn't really his heat, maybe it was some awful disease that didn't have a cure. Maybe Mother Superior had just said that it was his heat so he wouldn't panic. What if he never made it to his tenth birthday? What if he never got to say goodbye to Steve? The kid would have no idea what had happened to him, he'd come over the next morning to pick up the clothing for his mother's church group to repair and Bucky would be dead. Bucky felt a tear slip down his face. Who would look after that damn kid when he was gone? God knew his mother worked 'till all hours of the night, and the bigger kids weren't liable to stop just because he had nobody left. If anything, it'd only make it worse.  
'Damnit. Gonna have to deal with this, huh?'  he asked himself, and dragged himself up to sitting. _

_A couple hours later, Sister Marie brought him lunch, and a cup of tea._   
_"It's going to taste awful, I'm sorry, James. It's called motherwort, it's for heats. It'll help, but you have to drink the whole thing." She was right, of course, it was the worst thing that Bucky had ever tasted- Like the one time that Brother Joseph had gotten alcohol in his mouth while cleaning him up from a fight. He spluttered over the first sip, but eventually choked down the rest, and found that he did, indeed feel better. The weird jelly his stomach had turned to was no different than it had been, but at least he didn't hurt. And he didn't feel like he was dying anymore, either._   
_"Thank-you, Sister."_   
_"You'll be alright, James. Try and get some sleep, and remember that the Lord is watching over you."_

* * *

_Hot. Way too hot. In pain. Wet. Squishy. Alone. But mostly hot. Steve was in a private room in the section of the Home only used for heats (the ward for ruts was two floors up), on orders from Mother Superior. He heard a high-pitched whine in the back of his head and was startled to realise that it had been himself making it._   
_“You alright there, punk?” he heard Bucky call from just outside. Steve nearly yelped, but quickly cleared his throat instead._   
_“Feels weird. Like there’s-”_   
_“Somethin’ missin? I know, Stevie, but it’ll be fine. Want me to come in? I can slip the lock,” the slightly older boy offered._   
_“Be careful, Buck, don’t get caught,” Steve warned him._   
_“What? I’m insulted, Steve. You’ve wounded me. When have I ever been caught, huh? Don’t answer that,” Bucky added hurriedly._

_Steve heard a scrape and a click, and Bucky was inside, shutting the door and locking it behind him. Then he was behind Steve, holding him in a way that didn’t make him sweat more, but was just close enough to be comforting._   
_“You’re gonna be just fine, right Stevie? My first heat was pretty bad too. And I didn’t even have your pretty face to keep me distracted all the time then,” he soothed him, stroking his hair and massaging his lower belly._   
_“You were still over in that rat-infested dump you called an apartment, right?”_   
_“There are rats here, too, Buck,” Steve protested weakly._   
_“Ya, I know, punk. I was just sayin’, it’s nice seein’ ya every day,” Bucky replied, and pressed his lips to the scent gland at Steve’s jaw. Steve nearly jumped out of his skin at the contact._

_“But- But we’re both-”_   
_“Omegas? Yeah, I know. But there’s no alpha here to give you the attention you deserve right now, Stevie, and I know exactly what you need. Please, just lemme take care of ya, huh?” Steve nodded and leaned back against Bucky, letting the hands roaming over his skin do what he hadn’t known he needed._   
_“Sounds like a plan,” he murmured._   
_“And your next heat, I can try and take care of you, right?” Bucky smiled against his skin._   
_“I’m not due again ‘till flu season, but if you’re not coughin’ up a lung, I’d appreciate it,” he replied._   
_“You’re not too bad yet, huh? Still talkin’, that’s a good sign.” He rubbed at the insides of Steve’s wrists and Steve whimpered, leaning back into Bucky’s arms._

_“Hey, it’s alright, I’ve got you, sugar, you’re gonna be fine, right? Just fine. Gonna be so beautiful when you’re all grown up, aren’t ya, Stevie? All the alphas’ll be trippin’ over each other to court you, I bet. We just gotta get you through this first heat, right? Then we’ll have a better idea of what’s goin’ on with you.” Bucky punctuated each statement with a nip to Steve’s neck, right over where an alpha would mark him._   
_“Please, Buck,” Steve whimpered._

_It was awkward, of course it was, they were eleven and twelve, for Christ’s sake, but Bucky quickly learned what Steve liked, and managed to help him for an hour or two (or three) a day through the worst of his heat before Sister Helen found him while bringing Steve his supper one day. She was always their favourite after that, because instead of telling Mother Superior about the two boys, like she maybe should have, she simply made them promise not to let it become an issue around the other omegas, and not to tell anybody that she hadn’t punished them and made them repent. She, as it turned out, had been in a similar situation during her first heat, and was sympathetic to the boys’ position._


End file.
